


Doctor Who

by MrLsSidekick



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Reimagining, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-21 02:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15548067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrLsSidekick/pseuds/MrLsSidekick
Summary: A re-imagining of the entire series, that basically stemmed from the idea of "How can I get people to enjoy the series in its entirety without the daunting task of watching all 55 years of the show?" By re imagining it, of course! I try to keep the tone and the magic of the series in tact, so please, give thoughts!





	1. The Unearthly Doctor - Part I

**Author's Note:**

> As a side note, this will be broken into serials, like in Classic Who, since the format suits the chapter system of AO3 better.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen Winters meets a doctor that lives in a scrapyard, and can generally be considered, perhaps, a bit unearthly.

It was a quiet and foggy early morning in the late November of 1963. The local policeman was making his usual rounds, on the hunt for any suspicious activity. Not that there was really much suspicious activity to be had in Shoreditch, but with the recent scare involving the death of American President Kennedy, and Shoreditch being a part of London, tensions were high.

The watchman made his way to the nearest police box to call in. There was nothing to report, but upper management at the station wanted mandatory check-ins, plus it was nice to have somebody to talk to, to not make these nights so lonely.

“Officer Webber here, number 230815. Nothing to report… Look, Syd, why do I have to be here in the early AM? It’s Shoreditch, nothing’s gonna happen here! … aliens in London, hah! You’ve been watching that show too? The one with the old geezer and his granddaughter… Yeah! And starring Lancelot! Hah! Oh, Verity and the kids love it. What’s it called again?” The watchmen paced away from the box in thought, and he looked down the foggy street. To his surprise, he saw what appeared to be somebody moving way off on the distance. He turned back to the phone. “I’m going to have to call you back, I think I saw something.” He hung the receiver back on the box and started moving towards the figure.

“Hey, mate!” he called out. “What are you doing out at this time?”

No response from the figure, it just kept moving in the opposite direction that the watchman was.

“Hey!” he called again. Still nothing. The policeman began to pick up the pace, trying to reach the figure. The figure responded in turn, and each began to go faster until both of them were sprinting.

The chase continued down the road some distance before the night watchman lost sight of the figure. The man slowed to a halt in front of an old scrapyard. “I. M. Foreman, Scrap Merchant, 76 Totter’s Lane” the giant metal gate read. The policeman looked around for any sign of the figure, to no avail. He shrugged, and walked back to the police box, still trying to remember the name of that show.

Had he looked inside the scrapyard, however, he would never have had to walk back to the original box, for there was another one sitting just inside, with its door slowly closing.

 

* * *

 

Gwendolyn Winters sat on a bar stool of the local pub, The Rose and Crown, waiting for her colleague to arrive. She was about average height, with her blonde hair cut neatly into a chin-length bob cut accentuating her emerald green eyes. She stared into her drink, swirling it around, lost in thought. The barkeep walked up to her and noticed her preoccupation. “Rough day, huh Gwen?”

Gwen looked up from her drink to the keep, agreeing. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

 

* * *

 

It was true, Gwen was having a fairly rough day. Her job was to write articles for a local rag, _The Coal Hill Inquirer_ , not that she wanted to, mind you, it was the only paper that would hire her. She had a tendency to write stories that were nigh unbelievable at times; she always saw these stories as enticing ones, ones that could draw people in to buy more papers. Her boss, on the other hand, saw otherwise.

“Statues that move when you aren’t looking? People that you forget about as soon as they’re out of your sight? Shadows that eat people? C’mon Gwen!” her boss had yelled to her this morning. “And now this? ‘Local Man Finds Crack in the Universe!’”

“Hey, that one is true!”

“True my left arse cheek! No one wants to read this garbage!”

“No one wants to read the Inquirer! I make it interesting!”

“Hey, watch it! You’re on thin ice already. Now, for your next article, I want you and your team to do something nice, something _normal_. Can you do that?”

“Normal? What do you mean normal?”

“Something that people’ll want to read. Eh… here,” he said, tossing a copy of the Daily Herald over to her. “The Herald’s talking all about the Kennedy assassination, why don’t you do something on that?”

“Everyone’s writing on the assassination, who wants to read more about it?”

“Everybody! That’s why they keep writing about it. People are scared that Douglas-Home, or, God forbid it, Her Majesty, might be next!”

“Won’t people want a break from it though, and wouldn’t all the papers talking about it just make people more scared?”

“Bah, what do you know. Write it or you and your whole team are out. And you know that nowhere else’ll be hiring you!”

 

* * *

 

Gwen went back to her preoccupation with her drink. She pulled out the issue of the Herald that her boss had given her and looked at it. On the cover was a big picture of a still from the TV broadcast showing the Kennedy’s in their car, driving through Dallas.

Why did she have to write a story on this, she wondered. Everyone else already was, couldn’t she have something different to write about? So what if some of her stories were, shall we say, embellished? They all had some truth in them, and her investigations into these matters did prove that something weird was going on each time, and there was definitely a crack in the universe on that guys’ farm, her boss’ left arse cheek be damned.

“The Kennedy story, eh, could have been worse,” a voice behind Gwen said. She turned around to find her news writing and investigation partner Derrick Hickman. Derrick was a tall man, with short brown hair and matching brown eyes. Though he always went with Gwen along on her investigations, he only did so semi-willingly. He was the more grounded in reality of the two, willing to comply with the boss’ wishes than oppose them as Gwen was wont to do. “Could have been best town competition,” he added, sitting down next to Gwen.

Gwen swung around, looking out into the bar. “Derrick, why do we have to take this story?”

“Because, like I’ve been warning you, the boss doesn’t like your made up fantasies!”

“Hey, you know as well as I do that that crack was abnormal!”

“It was only abnormal in the sense that he didn’t know where it came from!”

“Ergo, it’s made by something universal!”

“... you’re unbelievable you know that?”

Gwen pulled out the newspaper again. “What’s unbelievable is that the boss thinks people want to read more about this!”

“It’s a major event! People want to know what’s going on, and our job is to keep them informed of that!” He waited, expecting some witty response from his colleague, but none came. He turned to look at her, and saw she was wide eyed, going back and forth between the newspaper and the corner of the room. She started slapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. “I’m already looking at you.”

She shoved the newspaper into his hands. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” She said in a frenzied whispered tone.

Derrick straightened out the paper and looked it over, before glancing back up at Gwen. “It’s the Herald, so what?”

“Look right there!” She said, pointing to the picture.

Beneath her finger was a scruffy looking man: short but messy black hair with grey on the sides, a trimmed salt and peppered beard. He was tall, and well built, but older looking and appeared to be standing next to a blonde woman in the crowd of the image. “It’s a guy, so what?”

“Doesn’t he look an awful lot like the guy over there?” Gwen pointed to the far corner, where sitting at a booth was a man who looked remarkably like the man in the photograph. “Isn’t that odd?”

Derrick paused. “I don’t like when you say something’s odd, especially when it’s followed by the twinkle in your eye you have now.”

“Say, Pete,” Gwen called the bartender over. “Come have a look at this. Doesn’t that man over there look like the man in this photo?”

Pete grabbed the paper, looking at it. “Say, that guy does look like the Doctor!”

“The Doctor?”

“Yeah, Doctor Foreman, the man over there… can’t be him though.”

“Why not?”

“He was here when the news broke, sitting right in that same corner, just like he always does.”

“And you’re sure about that?”

“Positive, served him his drink myself.”

“How peculiar...” Gwen mused, standing up and walking in the direction of Doctor Foreman.

“Gwen, don’t!” Derrick tried to stop his partner, but it was too late, she was already sitting across from the doctor.

“Hi!” She says warmly. The doctor looks up at her in a slight state of confusion.

“Can I help you?” the man asks in a gruff voice.

“My name is Gwen Winters, I’m a reporter, I just want to ask you a few questions.”

The doctor suddenly grew a worried look on his face. “No, I must be going,” he said, standing.

“Oh, please? It’ll just be a few questions is all.”

“No, I must be going,” the man repeated, headed towards the door.

“Were you in Dallas on the 22nd?” she called after him, but he made no response, he was already out the door. She quickly stood up to follow him, only to be stopped by Derrick.

“Let the poor man go, he clearly doesn’t want to talk.”

“It’s a simple yes or no question, and I’m going to get an answer!” she said, breaking free of her companion’s grip and running down out the door after the doctor.

 

* * *

 

Gwen turned up and down the street, looking for which direction the man had went. The fog made it difficult to see, but she did manage to make out the form of a man down the street a ways. She quickly started to run after the figure, following his every turn. She could hear Derrick calling for her, but she paid him no mind.

The winding streets in the fog turned Shoreditch into a strange and mysterious place, one that Gwen could barely recognize, despite living here for the many years. She noted the streets that she passed. Rivington, to High Street, to French Place, to Totter’s Lane. She finally caught up to the doctor outside an old scrapyard, where it seems like he was waiting for her.

“Why are you following me?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Answer mine and I’ll answer yours.”

“That was my answer!”

“No, it’s not, the answer lies in why you wanted to ask me a question. Who do you work for?”

“ _The Coal Hill Inquirer_.”

“Who really?”

“What?”

“ _Who really?_ ”

“The Inquirer really! Look,” Gwen said, pulling out the paper and showing it to the man. “I just saw this man in the photo here and thought it may have been you. So is it or not?”

“... you followed me 4 blocks just to ask me one question, nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“Heh, I like your hutzpah. You remind me of me in another life,” the man said, turning and walking towards the gate of the scrapyard, pushing it open.

“Hey, wait, you never answered my question!”

“You already know the answer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m home.”

“You live in a scrapyard?”

“One is entitled to live where they please,” he replied, shutting the gate behind him, leaving Gwen in a state of confusion. Derrick caught up to her shortly after the doctor entered the scrapyard.

“Well, are you satisfied Gwen?” Derrick snidely remarked. “Now that you’ve gone and chased an unsuspecting person down several streets?”

Gwen said nothing, lost in her own thoughts. She certainly wasn’t satisfied. ‘You already know the answer.’ What the hell did he mean by that? Did he hear Pete telling them about him? Did he confirm that her suspicions about him actually being there are correct? She didn’t know, and that was gnawing at her, and would still be gnawing at her if she didn’t find some answers quick.

 

* * *

 

Gwen spent the next few weeks observing the mysterious Doctor Foreman. His patterns were fairly regular: stay in the junkyard for most of the day, come out in the evening, stop in at the library every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, otherwise go to the Rose and Crown, spend most of the evening to night there, and come back in the early hours of the morning. He always wore the same set of clothing too: a brown overcoat with a black scarf and black pants with dress shoes, which surprised Gwen considering he was coming from a scrapyard which was covered in dirt, why would he wear nice shoes like that.

She eventually determined that she needed to get inside the scrapyard to truly understand what this man truly was all about. She knew that she would have to go in when the doctor was out, so it had to be in the evening.

Derrick, in the meanwhile, was concerned for Gwen. She had lost her job from not turning in an article, but she insisted it was okay, she was onto something here. “Besides,” she said, “If I’m so much better at fiction, as the boss said I was, then I’ll become a fiction writer, and laugh as the Inquirer crashes and burns.” This did nothing to help assuage Derrick’s worries. And yet, he stayed with her, bringing her food on her watches, making sure she was alright. He even reluctantly agreed to help her out searching the scrapyard. The things he did for a friend.

The night finally came where they had planned to enter the scrapyard. The doctor left at his usual time, and as soon as he was down the street, the two investigators made their move. The first challenge that presented itself, however, was the gate, which had locked in the doctor’s absence.

“Ooo, lockpicking, haven’t gotten a chance to do this since that one flat in Covent Garden!” Gwen said in delight.

“And that’s when you swore not to do it again.”

“Well, the opportunity presents itself, so might as well make the most of the opportunity,” she said, pulling out a pin to pick the padlock. “Carpe diem, as they say.”

“The only thing you’ll be seizing is a restraining order from this guy, if you keep it up.”

“He liked my hutzpah, I don’t think he’s gonna take legal action against me because of that.”

“Oh yes, because your logic is infallible.”

“Of course,” she said, handing him the picked lock and stepping inside the scrapyard, “isn’t it always?” Derrick sighed and followed her in.

The scrapyard was, as to be expected, filled with scraps of debris, old cars, old machines, etc. But one thing stood out among the rest, which both Gwen and Derrick noticed immediately.

“Is that a police box?” Derrick questioned. The two of them walked over to the tall blue box to check. By all outward appearances, it was a police box, phone and all, even listing the ambulance on the door, ‘St. John’s Ambulance.’ The two of them stared at the box in confusion. “What the devil is it doing here?”

The two fell silent, as they could hear a faint noise coming from somewhere. Gwen put her ear to the side of the box, and her eyes widened. “It’s humming!”

“What? Impossible.” Derrick put his ear to the side, eyes widening as much as Gwen’s. He quickly stood back, and began making his way around the box. “There must be some kind of plug, somewhere.”

Gwen stood back, looking to the front of the box in pure mystification. So it was then a surprise to her when the front door of the box swung open, allowing a look inside.

“I can’t find the plug anywhere, it must be… Gwen?” Derrick came around to the front to see what had captified his friend so, and found her stepping into the box. As she stepped in the door closed behind her. “GWEN!”

 

* * *

 

The girl stepped into the box and was speechless at what she saw. She finally managed to sputter out the phrase, “It’s bigger on the inside!” And, in truth, it was. What appeared on the outside as a box barely big enough for one person to stand in suddenly transformed into a large golden and grey room. The walls were adorned with circular indents that gave off a grey glow in the room. The floor was a metal grating, with stairs going in every which direction. The path in front of her lead up to the center of the room, where a large console of many bells and whistles sat.

She walked up the stairs and approached the console. Approaching the console, she found it to be adorned not with as many sleekly designed buttons as she anticipated, but more a random assortment of items that each served a function, what function they served she did not know. Among the items were a bell, a typewriter, a car horn, a gramophone, a piano, a cuckoo clock, and a television, among other items.

Gwen absentmindly ran her hands along the console, tracing her fingers around the keys of the typewriter. She looked up at the television screen, which she was surprised to find read “Hello!” She didn’t have much time to react as she heard a commotion coming from the door. She turned around to see Doctor Foreman enter, muttering about “Impetuous humans,” followed by Derrick, who was quickly in shock at the same thing that Gwen was.

“Hey!” yelled the doctor. “Away from the console!” Gwen quickly obeyed, realizing she may have made a bad choice deciding to follow this guy.

Derrick gasped in awe. “It’s bigger on the inside.”

“Yes,” the doctor replied. “It’s the bending of Time And Relative Dimensions Into Space, or, for short, the TARDIS.” The doctor turned to Gwen, “You wanted answers, I’m going to be giving you more than you ever anticipated.”

Gwen nodded, “Thank you Doctor Foreman.”

“Don’t call me that, that’s not my name, just, The Doctor.”

“Okay Doctor.”

“Firstly, to answer your question from before. Was I there? Yes and no.”

“Yes and no?”

“No because I wasn’t there yet, and yes because, as the picture shows, I was there, so that means at some point I will be going there.”

“That’s impossible!” Derrick interjected. “The past has happened already! You can’t go back!”

“Past is a relative phrase, as is future. Neither exists.”

“You’re insane!”

“Says the man who was just threatening to kill me because, and I quote, ‘a police box ate my friend.’ Now be quiet, the adults,” The Doctor said, pointing to himself and Gwen, “are talking.”

“Oh yes,” muttered Derrick, “because someone who believes they found a crack in the skin of the universe really is the one that should be classified as an adult.”

Gwen was hurt by her partner’s remark, but was brought up to spirits again by The Doctor’s response of “Cracks in the skin of the universe? Where?”

“Oh my god,” Derrick said, exasperated.

Gwen tuned out Derrick and answered, “Over at a farm. Why, are you interested?”

The Doctor, mulled it over for a second. “Perhaps.”

Gwen replied happily, “Okay! Thank you, finally someone sees where I’m coming from,” before quickly setting back on track, “Wait, I still have more questions! What do you mean you weren’t there yet?”

“Much more than the one question you promised before. Heh. Well, this is a time machine, as the T in TARDIS implies. It can go anywhere in time or space, S.”

“Wow! Anywhere?”

“Anywhere.”

“How does it work?”

“I’ll show you,” The Doctor said, walking around to the typewriter and the screen. “All I do is input the coordinates of where and when I want to go,” he showed by pressing some keys, “press a few buttons, and presto, we’re off!”

“That’s amazing! Can you where did you type in just then?”

“Oh. No place really. Just tapped random buttons is all.”

“Alright, can you take us there now?”

Derrick yelled up, “I highly vote against that.”

“For once he didn’t say something inane,” The Doctor added. “It’s late, and now my evening plans have… _shifted_. So, I ask that we part ways.”

“Okay Doctor,” Gwen answered, kind of disappointed. “I will see you again though, right? I still have to show you that crack in the skin of the universe.”

“Yes, of course. But not now. Some other time. Goodbye!”

“Goodbye Doctor!” Gwen said, walking down the stairs to the front door.

“Goodbye, and good riddance!” Derrick added, after being met with a hit in the arm from Gwen.

“Oh, here,” The Doctor said, “Let me get the door for you.” The Doctor rounded the console, pressing a few buttons, but nothing happened. The front door didn’t open.

Derrick’s expression turned from confused, to concerned, to angry. “Hey what’s the big ide-”

Suddenly Derrick was interrupted by a sudden rumbling. The TARDIS began to make a “VWORP VWORP VWORP” noise, and the lights in the console room began to flash. Derrick’s expression turned to fear, and Gwen’s turned to excitement. But soon, neither had any expression on their face as they blacked out and fell to the floor in a heap.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, I’m closing up for the night,” the store owner called to his two overnight security guards. “Have a good night!” The man walked to the front of the store, a clothing store, chock full of clothes on racks, clothes on shelves, and clothes on mannequins. The two security guards sat at a desk at the middle of the room, twiddling their fingers. There never was really much to do in a clothing store; it wasn’t one of the higher end ones, so there was no real fear that it would be robbed at night.

“Man, why do we have to be here?” One said to the other.

“Look,” the other replied, “be happy. We have a job that practically means we get to do whatever we want all night! Without a single worry in the world. And, we get paid for it!”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” The first guard walked up to one of the mannequins, a lady one, and leaned against the wall, addressing it. “So, uh, you come around here often?”

The other guard laughed, but quickly subsided. “Why would you want to hit on it? These things give me the heebie jeebies.”

“Relax, they’re just mannequins, they can’t hurt us!”

Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a loud banging from the boiler room. Both guards turned their heads towards the source of the noise, confused. The other guard rose, saying “I’m going to check that out. You stay here, keep watch.”

“Sure thing,” he said, taking his seat at the desk as his partner walked to the back of the store. “Scared of mannequins, ha!”

A few moments of silence passed, before a scream echoed throughout the store, coming from the direction of the boiler room. The first guard turned to look at the room, concerned. He called out, “Are you okay?” No response. He turned back to get up so he could check on his partner. As he did, he noticed something that unsettled him very much so: the mannequin he was jokingly hitting on, which was about 10 paces away from where he was before, now stood directly in front of him. “What the-” was all the guard could manage to say before the hand of the mannequin popped open, revealing a gun. The guard could only scream in fear as the gun fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, first chapter done. Oh man, have I been waiting for a long time to do my own take on Doctor Who. And now, I'm finally afforded that chance. Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> The 2nd part of "The Unearthly Doctor", coming soon.
> 
> Comments and criticisms are welcome!


	2. The Unearthly Doctor - Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor gets locked out, and he and Gwen find out about a threat to the Earth.

The sky was empty on a dark, dark night in late November 1963. All the people of the United Kingdom were at home, asleep in their beds. Much was the same for Clifford Turner, an older man living out in the countryside. He was peacefully asleep when a bright light woke him up. He turned to look out his window, hoping to find the source of the light, yet he saw nothing. The only thing he could see was the fact that there were some shooting stars blazing through the skies. 

Passing it off as nothing, he fell back asleep, only to be woken not a half hour later by an odd ringing sound. Mr. Turner sat straight up in his bed, turned his legs, and stood up. Doing so wasn’t fully of his own volition, he felt compelled to do so by some outside force. 

Before he knew it, Mr. Turner found himself walking downstairs and out the front door, making his way down the dirt-laden path and into the woods on the outskirts of his property. Soon enough he found himself in a clearing in the middle of the woods, where a freshly made crater waited. In the dead center of the crater was a round object, about the size and shape of an association football. As Mr. Turner approached it, the object began to glow bright pink and the ringing sound emanating from it began to grow louder.

Still not completely in control of himself, the man walked over to the object and picked it up, wiping the dirt off of it. The object began to flash its pink glow as the ringing became a low hum. Mr. Turner, still carrying the object, exited the crater and returned to his farmhouse. Entering the barn, he stowed the object away high in the loft, underneath a large pile of hay, before entering the house, climbing back up the stairs, and falling back asleep.

When he awoke in the morning, he had no recollection of any of the prior night’s events.

 

* * *

 

The Doctor looked at the two humans slumped unconscious in front of his doorway with annoyance. He had quite liked the little life he had nestled himself into in that little scrapyard, and now, because of some nosy humans, he was going to have to up and leave that life, go back to being a nomad. Maybe he should find a nice dead planet or an asteroid somewhere, that way no one could find him, or interfere with him.

Though he had to admit, he did admire the girl’s tenacity, it reminded him of what he used to e like, a lifetime ago, or, to be more accurate, nine lifetimes ago. That Doctor was long gone, never to return. Good riddance to it, he thought, optimism and naivete have no real place in a knowledgeable soul.

The Doctor made his way to the console, looking to the TV screen. “Alright, let’s see where we’ve landed, so I can dump these two off without worrying about a blabbermouth.” A map popped up on the screen, and it read something to the Doctor’s disappointment. “Chelsea?!? That’s a half hour away from where we were, I can’t ditch them here!”

The map on the screen disappeared, and replaced were some circular symbols, a form of writing of some sort. The Doctor understood it and looked confused. “ _ Why? _ Because they would tell their friends about me, and they’d tell their friends, et cetra, et cetra, one of Rassilon’s agents may find out. They find us, and  _ zwoop _ , back to that hell hole for both of us. You’d probably be decommissioned, you know that?”

The symbols disappeared, and more replaced it. “He’s got thousands of Time Lords at his disposal,” The Doctor replied, “He can spare a few to track down a renegade.”

More symbols. “ _ TAKE THEM? _ What do I look like, some kind of caretaker, I don’t want to lug around two unnecessary weights too!”

The symbols disappeared. On the screen flashed an image of what appeared to be three people in their early 20’s, two males and one female in the middle, all leaning in closely together, reminiscent of a photo between good friends. The male on the left was tall and skinny, sporting a mop of blonde hair on his head and a wide grin that had an air of impishness to it. The head had a couple lines doodled around it as if it was emanating a radiance around it. Written above his picture was the name “Koschei.” The female in the middle was shorter than her two compatriots, with long brown hair, a determined look in her eyes and a slight smirk on her lips. Above her was written the name “Ushas,” with little beakers and explosions doodled around it. The male on the right was tall and skinny, like the male on the right, but instead, he had brown hair slicked into a cowlick. He had an amused expression on his face, at least it appeared that way underneath all the doodling over his face in an ink the same color as the one that wrote “Koschei.” Above the last male, the name “ ΘΣ ” was written. Underneath the picture of the three, more the screen produced more circular symbols.

A wistful smile appeared on the Doctor’s face briefly, before he quickly dismissed it. Turning away from the screen, he said, “We’re not talking about them right now. They were different.”

The symbols changed again. “For one they were competent.”

Once again, the symbols changed. The Doctor read it and turned back to the humans, still unconscious. He turned back to the console, giving it a look which said, “Really?” The symbols were gone, replaced again with more symbols, followed by a brief moment of pause, before adding one last symbol. The Doctor read this last symbol, and his expression turned to one of anger.

“Gone,” he replied. “Much like everyone in that photo. They are all long gone.”

The screen suddenly filled with more symbols, with certain ones flashing for emphasis. The Doctor looked at them, unamused, and said, “I can do whatever I want,” before shutting the screen off.

The Doctor turned back to the two humans, who were now starting to regain consciousness. Gwen looked up at him, asking “Have we moved? Are we in a different place in time and space? Where are we?”

“The place where you two will be getting off,” The Doctor replied, grabbing the both of them by the scruffs of their necks and opening the TARDIS doors.

 

* * *

 

Morning cast its early light over the doors of Britt’s, a clothing store in Chelsea. In about an hour, the store was set to open its doors for a day’s worth of customers. Bonnie McBride, a young brunette in her early 20’s, was headed to the store, her place of work, to relieve the two night guards of their duties, and to help set up shop for the day. Making her way to the door, she peered inside, where she saw the two night guards, sitting at their post. She gave them a little wave as she unlocked the door and called out to them.

“Hello, you two!” She could see they were smiling, not a wide grin, but a smile that gave off a certain air of unsettlement to it. Yet verbally they made no response, they just sat there, blankly staring ahead. “What, nothing? No how do you do or anything like that? … Well fine, I was only trying to be polite. Anyways, I’ve arrived, so you two can pop off back to your homes.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that one of the shirts was slightly shifted, and she was surprised to see a mannequin being in a different place than it was before. It’s not like it was completely moved to a different location, it was just off by a little bit, which was odd. She fixed the shirt and moved the mannequin back into its neat and orderly place, before glancing back over to the guard post, where, to her surprise, the two guards still remained. They hadn’t just not gotten up, they seemed to have not moved one bit, still blankly staring ahead with the smile on their face. Confused, she called out to the two once more.

“I said you two can pop off,” she said, before noticing some little untidinesses around. She continued to speak as she fixed the errors. “Not that I don’t like the company, mind you, but if I was you two I’d be outta here long ago. While you’re here though, I’m making some tea for myself, you two want a cup?” She paused for a response, yet none came.

Bonnie turned back to the desk to see that the two guards were making their way towards the door. Their movements seemed labored as if their whole body was stiff, or something of that sorts. It was, like the mannequin being slightly off its place, odd. She tutted at the two, remarking, “Well if you didn’t want one you could have just said so.” She went back to being preoccupied with her pre-opening duties as the two guards shuffled their way out of the door and into the morning sun, their unsettling smiles still frozen on their faces.

 

* * *

 

The Doctor dragged the two humans out of the TARDIS, plopping them on the ground just outside. The box had landed in the middle of a park, which would have garnered some attention if it wasn’t the early hours of the morning. Gwen collected herself, before asking The Doctor, “The place where we get off? What do you mean Doctor? This is Chelsea.”

“I’m bloody well aware this is Chelsea! Not my choice because  _ somebody _ ,” The Doctor made a pointed glance at the TARDIS at this point, “is being disagreeable. I would have preferred someplace isolated, like Morrax, but noooo, you had to be returned 30 minutes from where we were.”

“Someplace isolated?” Derrick questioned, before coming to a realization. “You were going to abandon us there, leave us for dead!”

“What?!?” Gwen exclaimed, alarmed. “Why?”

“Look, I was perfectly happy in that scrapyard! I loved living here, it was quiet and peaceful. But because you two stuck your noses where they didn’t belong, I have to leave this all behind.”

“Don’t wrap me into this,” Derrick argued, “it was her idea!”

“I don’t care whose idea it was! It happened, and it can’t be undone. So, yes, I was going to abandon you, as you so put it, to prevent knowledge of me from being known. But she,” once again pointing to the TARDIS, “seems to like you, so I leave you with this.  **Forget you ever knew me** . Don’t tell anyone about what you’ve seen, alright?”

“But, Doctor…” Gwen started, but she was quickly interrupted by The Doctor.

“No buts! Just do it?”

“What if we join you though?”

The Doctor and Derrick both answered at the same time, “What? No!”

“Why not?”

“Look, Gwen,” Derrick explained, “why would someone not want knowledge of his whereabouts to be known? Because he’s a criminal, on the run from someone or something.”

“OY!” The Doctor refuted, “Not a criminal! Besides, wouldn’t you think the more logical answer for why I want to remain inconspicuous is because, oh, I don’t know, I have a time machine, perhaps?”

“No no no. That wasn’t a time machine. We didn’t travel through time, or space for that matter.”

“Derrick,” Gwen interjected, “We’re in Chelsea, we were in Shoreditch earlier.”

“We blacked out! He could have moved the box while we weren’t looking.”

“Oh, yeah,” The Doctor sarcastically replied, “because I hired a truck to carry this police box a half an hour just to make you think that we’ve moved somewhere else.”

“If that’s the case,” Gwen added, “how did he make the box bigger on the inside?”

“... Mirrors.”

“Okay,” The Doctor quickly responded. “I’m going to disregard everything I hear him say from now on,” The Doctor turned back to the TARDIS and began walking towards it, “which hopefully won’t be a lot.”

Gwen ran to The Doctor’s side, almost to intercept him before he reached the box. “Disregarding Derrick then,” she asked, “why do you say we can’t come with you?”

“Because I said you can’t, and my word is final,” The Doctor answered curtly, pushing past Gwen. “Now, do as I said, forget all about me.”

The Doctor walked up to the door on the box, and tried to push it open, but found it unbudging. He tried it again, with a bit more force, to no avail. “Come on, you stupid box, let me in!” The Doctor began pulling on the handles of the door, but the doors remained shut.

As The Doctor struggled, Gwen made her way back to Derrick, pondering something. “Hmm, do you think we could convince him somehow to bring us along?”

“Why do you keep dragging me into this? I don’t want anything to do with this Doctor fella, and if you were smart, Gwen, you shouldn’t either!”

“Okay, fine then, do you think  _ I _ could convince him somehow to bring  _ me _ along?”

“You’re not listening, Gwen! This guy is bad news, I can tell already. He nearly left us for dead! He’s got to be some sort of criminal, on the run or something.”

“He seemed intrigued by the crack in the universe, maybe if I show him that…”

“Are you listening to me, Gwen? Don’t trust this guy! … oh my god you’re doing what he’s doing. You’re ‘disregarding me,’ aren’t you?”

“And with him seemingly stuck outside the TARDIS, he might have to go with us!”

“Get out of his mindset Gwen! He’s dangerous!”

“Thanks for the advice, Derrick!” Gwen cheerily stated as she walked off.

“So you were listening. Good. You could have ma-” and then he noticed that she was walking back towards The Doctor and the TARDIS. “Nevermind then, go, go with the criminal that tried to kill us. Yeah, that’s a good idea!”

Gwen had, by this point, made her way over to The Doctor, who had moved from struggling to open the door to vaguely threatening it. “Open up right now or I’m going to sonic you open!”

“Uh, Doctor?” Gwen asked, tapping on his shoulder.

“I thought I told you to leave.”

“Well, you seem to be having trouble leaving yourself!”

A pause from The Doctor. “Fair point.” He turned away from the TARDIS and towards the girl. “Alright, what do you want?”

“I think I may have a solution to get you back in the TARDIS and get you on your way.”

“Oh?”

“You mentioned that the TARDIS took a liking to us, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Well, perhaps she, if I may call the TARDIS a she, isn’t opening because she wants you to give us a chance?” The Doctor seemed to think about that for a bit. Gwen continued, “If that’s the case, then maybe she’ll open if we spend some time together, you give us a full chance at something. I can show you that crack in the universe I found. And, double bonus for you, you get to keep an eye on us to make sure we stick to our word and not tell anyone about you or the TARDIS!”

The Doctor remained silent for a moment before a smile appeared on his face. He let out a chuckle, before saying, “You know, I’m starting to see what she sees in you now. Can’t say the same for the other one though.”

“So is that a yes?”

“For now, yes.”

“Yes!” Gwen exclaimed excitedly, pumping her fist. “Alright, so, the crack is a bit too far to walk, so we’re going to need a car.”

“How far is it?”

“About two hours drive. In Wotton-under-Edge.”

“You humans and your strange place names. And, well, I would offer transportation, but, eh, it’s in the shop, so to say.”

“More like you locked the keys inside.”

“Or the keys locked me out.”

The two laughed, much to the bewilderment of Derrick. He couldn’t believe any of this was happening.

“Well, I have a friend, she works right around here. I can see if she can maybe drive us there?”

“Excellent!” The Doctor said, rubbing his hands together.

“Come on then, this way!” Gwen said, taking off in one direction. “You coming, Derrick?”

“As much as I dislike this whole exercise, whatever either of you are planning, I’m coming.”

The two males took off after Gwen, exiting the park and headed down the street.

 

* * *

 

Somewhere, buried deep underneath a large pile of hay in a barn in the West Country of England, a mysterious object, hidden there by an old farmer who found it in a crater, began to buzz, and glow. These effects didn’t wake Mr. Turner this time, but it did cause some of the horses to grow a bit skittish, pacing this way and that in a clearly panicked state.

Unbeknownst to most, this object wasn’t the only one of its kind, there were many others that crashed down on that night, some picked up by people, some not. But one by one, all across the country, they were beginning to glow, and buzz. Not for very long, maybe a minute or two, and for seemingly no particular reason, but glow and buzz they did.

One such one resided in a boiler room of a clothing store and had for a while. It was older, arriving at an earlier time, but it still, at its appointed time, too began to glow and buzz.

 

* * *

 

The Doctor, Gwen, and Derrick had fund their way to Britt’s Clothing Store, where Gwen’s friend Bonnie worked as a store clerk on the opening shift. Bonnie was just coming back to Gwen, who was sitting down at the guard stand in the center of the store, with a nice hot cup of tea. The Doctor and Derrick were roaming around the store, looking at the various different clothes and wares.

“Ah, thanks, Bon,” Gwen said as Bonnie placed the cup in front of her. She took a sip as Bonnie responded.

“Of course! Always nice to have someone appreciate my hospitality.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Oh, just some of the night guards is all. I offered to make them tea, and they didn’t even respond, just walked right out of the store, like I wasn’t even there at all!”

“No!”

“Yeah! And I said to them too, ‘Well if you didn’t want any you could have just said so.” The two girls laughed at that. Bonnie continued. “Peculiar thing about them, haven’t seen them since then.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Missed their entire shift last night, boss had to find some last minute replacements for them!”

“How odd.”

“Right?”

Meanwhile, Derrick approached The Doctor, who had been looking at some coats, and comparing them to the coat he was currently wearing. “You know,” Derrick said, “I don’t like you, and I don’t trust you.”

“Gee, and I thought we were getting along just swimmingly,” The Doctor dryly replied, not diverting his attention from the coats.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re planning, but I will let you know that I don’t intend to let any harm come to Gwen.”

“And you think I would?”

“I don’t know what you’re planning!”

“I’m planning to get away from you two as fast as possible, this is just a means to an end.”

“She wants to join you.”

“Wants are often far from reality. Regardless, she’s not coming with me.”

“Good.”

“But then again, she might be better off than having to deal with you all the time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying that it would probably be to her advantage to not be having to constantly interact with someone who writes off the unexplained as smoke and mirrors!”

That set Derrick off into spouting off some phrases angrily, not that The Doctor registered any of them, he was too distracted by something he noticed that seemed off.

Back at the guard stand, Gwen took another sip of her drink. “Mmm, this is really good.”

“Thank you! Now, why did you come here again, at such an early hour? I’m not supposed to let people in early! But, since it’s an old friend, I’m sure I could make an exception.”

“You’re all heart Bon. Well, remember that ‘crack in the universe’ I found?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m want to show it to Doctor Foreman!”

“Oh, so he’s got a real name? I kept hearing you call him Doctor so many times, I thought maybe that was his name. Or, you know, some kind of…  _ special thing _ .”

“BON! Get your mind out of there, he’s old enough to be my dad!”

“Hey, some people like that! Who am I to judge?”

“Stop it.”

Bonnie chuckled, before continuing, “What’s it got to do with me anyway?”

“Well, the thing is, you know I don’t have a car, and his is in the shop, so I was wondering if maybe you could drive us there?”

“Oh sure, but not today, got a long shift today. But tomorrow might be good!”

“Aw thanks, Bon, you’re the best!”

“Hey, what are friends for, eh?”

The two of them took another sip of their teas and sat back, but before either of them could say another word they heard a call from The Doctor. “Has this always been like this?”

The two ladies joined the men over where they were standing. Derrick had quieted down both after realizing The Doctor wasn’t giving him the time of day anymore as well as while he was trying to figure out what The Doctor was exactly referring to. “Has what always been like this?” Bonnie asked.

“The mannequin,” The Doctor clarified, as he pointed to a mannequin in front of them. It was very evident that someone had made a mistake somewhere along the line; the mannequin, which was wearing a fancy cocktail dress, was situated in the middle of the men’s trousers section.

“Oh, wow,” Bonnie remarked, “how’d this get here? Let me go move this back to its proper spot.” She approached the mannequin, but The Doctor stopped her. He motioned for everyone to clear the area in front of the mannequin, and he stepped to the side himself. Derrick was hesitant, being a bit stubborn and thinking The Doctor was being daft but moved when Gwen practically dragged him out of the way. Once the area was cleared, The Doctor very carefully approached the figure, making sure he wasn’t standing in front of it. After a moment of inactivity, he quickly slapped his hand down on the mannequin’s fingers, before quickly jumping backward. To the others’ surprise, the fingers swung down, as if on a hinge, revealing what appeared to be the barrel of a gun, which near immediately fired a shot straight into the opposite wall from it.

Bonnie jumped with a shriek when the gun fired, and Gwen and Derrick both jumped out of the way, before returning once they were fairly sure that the gun wasn’t firing anymore. All four of them gathered in front of the mannequin, being mindful of avoiding being in the direct line of fire of the barrel.

“Oh my god what is it?” Bonnie asked.

“Looks to be some sort of killer mannequin to me,” Gwen answered.

“Like some kinda robot?”

“Killer mannequins?” Derrick scoffed. “What are they going to do? Kill people with poor fashion sense?”

“Less of a fixation on apparel, more a fixation on anyone,” The Doctor clarified.

“What do you mean anyone?” Bonnie worried. “Oh my god, this is a plot by the Soviets to invade our country and destroy our way of life!”

The Doctor groaned. “You humans and your egotism, always thinking everything is about you. It’s an invasion yes, but not a human invasion.”

“What do you mean not a human invasion?” Derrick questioned, stupefied. “Are you trying to suggest that an alien race has landed on Earth and is trying to take over the planet by using mannequins?”

The Doctor stood in bemused silence. “Dennis, you’ve traveled through time and space, how is this surprising to you? Oh, that’s right, you still think this is all smoke and mirrors right? That wall didn’t just get shot by a mannequin, right? This is all just some big magic trick, where I’m going to go reveal that this shop doesn’t even exist, right? It’s all a facade, right? I told you before that wants and reality often never go hand in hand. You want everything to have a rational explanation, and you don’t accept the reality that the explanation that’s given is one that you may never understand. That’s the problem with most of you humans, you always seem to have a set of blinders on, you never see what’s really in front of you, you always pass it off as a hoax, or a scam. You see a crack in the universe, you say it’s a crack in the plastering. You see a person, literally, disappear into a shadow, and you say it’s got to be some guy grabbing them in the darkness. You see a mannequin moving, with a gun in its hand, and you say a person, better yet, a  _ COMMUNIST _ , built it as a robot to kill people. There is an entire universe out there to explore, yet you can’t seem to get your heads out of your own ATMOSPHERE.” 

The humans fell silent, Derrick and Bonnie stunned, while Gwen was grinning madly. She was ecstatic, finally someone was making the point that she had been trying to prove for so long. The Doctor saw her smiling, and couldn’t help a brief smile erupting on his face, before returning to its normal stoic look. The Doctor brushed himself off, before continuing with, “If you can’t accept the truth in front of your eyes, leave now, you’ll only get in the way. Now, everyone else, there’s work to be done.”

The Doctor took off towards the center of the store, followed shortly by Gwen, and then a still slightly mystified Bonnie, leaving Derrick alone, still stunned. He couldn’t even manage to say that his name was Derrick, not Dennis. He quickly exited the shop, headed to someplace where he could clearly sort his thoughts; he couldn’t do that around The Doctor.

As the other three made their way to back to the center of the shop, The Doctor explained further. “What we’re dealing with is a very old, and very strong threat, if what I believe it is to be is correct. Potentially as old as the universe itself, maybe older. I must admit that the robot wasn’t the worst analogy to use to describe the mannequins, as they’re not the creatures themselves.”

“They aren’t?” Bonnie asked.

“No, they’re more, as the best way to put it, game pieces in a giant game. They don’t move on their own, they have to be controlled by a player. Key to stopping that invasion is to find that player.”

Gwen stopped and began to concentrate really hard on something. She eventually said, “Hey, do you hear that buzzing too? Or is it just me?”

The Doctor and Bonnie fell silent and listened. “Oh, I hear it too!” Bonnie exclaimed.

The Doctor clapped his hands, “Of course! The player needs to be in close proximity to the pieces, but it won’t put itself in a location where it can be directly caught in the crossfire, so it’s sending signals to its pieces! And what do you need to get signals? A receiver! Good ears Gwen!”

“Thank you, Doctor!”

The Doctor began to orient himself at the guard post, listening carefully. “Now, the buzzing seems to be coming from… that direction.” The Doctor pointed in the direction of the boiler room. “So, chances are likely that the receiver is going to be there. All we need to do is get to that door and destroy the receiver before whoever plans to use it gets their chance to. Any questions?”

“Yes, one,” Bonnie replied.

“Yes, Bessie?”

“Bonnie.”

“Yes, Bonnie?”

“What do we do about all of them?” Bonnie pointed ahead down the opening which lead to the boiler room. Emerging from the shelves were mannequin after mannequin, hands popping open and preparing to fire.

“Well,” The Doctor answered, “it’s at times like these I like to remember one of the oldest strategies in the history of life in the universe, used countless times to may successes, and some failures, but mostly successes.”

“What’s that Doctor?” Gwen wondered.

The Doctor took each girl by the hand firmly and said one word that set in their minds the exact plan they had to take: “RUN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter was quite long to write. Took me quite a few times shifting around certain parts and passages to get the final layout you see before you. But it was quite fun to write though, getting very used to these characters. Also, realizing that the Doctor would be played by Tim Roth if this was a live action version definitely helped some.
> 
> Part 3 of "The Unearthly Doctor" will be coming soon!
> 
> Comments and criticisms are always welcome!


End file.
